


Words Will Never Hurt Me

by DeepDarkFandom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Castiel Feels, Depressed Castiel, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Lucifer Possessing Castiel, POV Castiel, Post-Episode: s11e10 The Devil in the Details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7537777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDarkFandom/pseuds/DeepDarkFandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's thoughts while he was being possessed by Lucifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Will Never Hurt Me

_ expendable … not worth the effort … broken _

Castiel felt the words bubbling inside him, threatening to overflow. If he wasn’t careful they’d spill out of his head; the world would die from their poison. It was him or the world. Self sacrifice. Wasn’t that the only thing he was good at? The words stirred up unfamiliar emotions, things he hadn’t yet felt in his short time being able to feel. He didn’t want them. He tried to shove them down into the ground but they frothed up between his fingers and rose until he was up to his neck in them. He was drowning.

He needed to do something. Anything. But he couldn’t even blink when he wanted. The frustration felt like a rot in his mind, in the tiny corner of his mind that Lucifer allowed him to be in, inexplicably left in peace. Without warning he had this  _ need. _ This desperate need to get out,  _ breathe, _ but he couldn’t. He was trapped inside his own head, all because he had said yes. More of the dreaded emotions surged. It was a deadly cycle.

The torrent of feelings grew, building and building until he was just a speck in a raging whirlpool. So he did the only thing he could to remind himself he existed. He screamed. He couldn’t even use his real voice so he did it in his head, aimed it at Lucifer; his small revenge. He lost himself in the imagined sound.

_ Enough, _ boomed Lucifer, his voice much bigger from this angle. Castiel felt a spark of petty glee that he had annoyed him. He couldn’t stop himself hoping he would now be disposed of. That was the only possible escape from the roaring in his head. No matter how loud he was, he never came close to blocking out the words.

_ worthless … deserved to die _

Instead of death, a television appeared in front of Castiel. He would have blinked in surprise, could he have moved his eyelids. A click echoed around him and the box lit up with sounds and colour that somehow formed people, stories. It seemed horrifically cheerful, starkly out of place. Yet he watched it anyway. Anything was better than listening to the voices in his head.

Belatedly, sluggishly, he realised that the torturous words had been dulled. He felt like he should be relieved, but in the place of emotion there was a curious blankness. The world had shrunk to the television, nothing else. He was sinking into oblivion. He could have fought it, he had done so before … but why? Why should he fight anymore? He couldn't find an answer, and so he lost himself in the grey.

Days, months, years later, he heard something new. Something that wasn’t the television. A voice. It was rough. It reminded him of bad things, words that caused a sickening pain in his chest. But it also reminded him of green eyes and a smile that made everything else go away, but not like the television did. It was better. He shied away from it, because waking up meant losing the peace that came with nothingness. Yet, the voice also reminded him of loyalty and friendship. There wasn’t a choice. Not really. There never was. Slowly, he began to pull himself from the sticky greyness. It didn’t want him to leave, tried to pull him back into its lukewarm centre, but he laboriously continued to struggle. The voice got louder, more insistent. It stirred the memory of a person he hadn’t thought about for a long time and emotions that he hadn’t felt in forever. The person was important. He found his lips moving according to his command.

“Dean?”


End file.
